


Passing the Torch

by caliecat



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Character Study, Coda, Episode Tag, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-11
Updated: 2011-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-16 21:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caliecat/pseuds/caliecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After she meets Steve, Rachel discovers that Danny is in good hands. Extended coda to Episode 1x10, Heihei.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passing the Torch

The first time they meet, Steve is nothing like Rachel expects.

He looks terribly uncomfortable standing at the bottom of the steps, wearing an awkward smile and averting his gaze while Danny spins another of his dodgy tales explaining why they need to be in her house.

Once in the reception hall, Steve is polite and almost hesitant, asking sensible questions about her neighbors and exuding an air of quiet competence. There are no crazy eyes, no hint of psychosis, in fact none of the awful traits Danny had led her to believe his new partner possessed in alarming abundance. But then he always did have a knack for presenting things in the worst possible light, which certainly didn't help their marriage.

After Danny leaves she joins Steve upstairs, partly out of an ingrained obligation to be a good hostess but mostly to learn more about the man who has captured her daughter's interest like a shiny new toy. He's friendly and charming as he shifts about with his surveillance equipment, but underneath his relaxed manner she senses a burning curiosity about what really happened between her and Danny.

She hasn't completely figured that one out herself, let alone be in a position to articulate it to a perfect stranger. And she can only imagine the horrible things Danny must have told Steve about her. It's apparent in his cool appraisal and guarded expression, leaving no question in her mind as to where his loyalties lay.

He explains what's on the monitor and her heart leaps into her throat. _Danny_.

The ghostly images flood her with memories of those endless panic-filled nights back in New Jersey when she waited for him to return home from another risky operation. Her apprehension must show on her face because Steve hastens to reassure her.

"Danny’s a great cop. He knows what he’s doing."

The conviction in his voice and pride in his eyes settle her worries, if only for a moment. It's sweet that he would bother to do so, that he seems to care at all about making a good first impression on his partner's ex-wife. There's something there, something intriguing beneath the surface that she can't quite grasp, like a mystery waiting to be solved.

Then she sees the same fear blossom on his face when Danny is trapped by the killers.

The next moments pass in a blur. Pure instinct propels her out of the house and into her car without even a pause to consider the potential danger. It's like walking a tightrope without a net underneath, the adrenaline singing in her veins and the bold-faced lies flowing without a thought.

Her hands are still shaking after it's all over and she meets up with Danny back at the house. But it was worth it because Grace will see her father again.

She drinks in his praise, relishing the warmth in his smile and the shared sense of their old partnership. Until now she didn't know how much she had missed that.

A few minutes later, she hurries over to their car with Grace's laptop as they're packing up to leave. Steve glances up from his boxes of equipment and flashes her a quick grin. Now that Danny is safe he seems calm and relaxed again.

"Nice work back there."

"I have to admit, Commander, it was a tad exciting." She can't help her own pleased smile.

"I'll bet. And please, call me Steve. After all, we're practically partners now."

"Well," she says, ducking her head, and then sees Danny rush toward them from the front of the car.

"Partners!" He waves a finger in Steve's face. "I'm warning you, do _not_ encourage her."

Steve plants his hands on his hips and smirks right back. "Yeah? Afraid of a little competition, buddy?"

" _Competition_? I'll give you competition. You won't be able to _handle_ a new partner when I'm through with you."

"I doubt you have any idea what I can handle," Steve shoots back, low and dangerous.

And just like that, she's invisible, the two of them grinning like loons at each other over her head as though she doesn't exist. The connection between them is almost tangible, sparking through the air like electricity. Without one break in their banter they finish loading the car, slide into their seats and take off, tires squealing as they round the turn onto the street. Shestands in the courtyard and tracks them until their car disappears from view.

 _Partners._

Despite all that happened tonight, Danny seems happy, alive with an energy she hasn't seen in him since their divorce.

Steve is even more of a surprise, bearing no resemblance to the unflattering image she cobbled together from Danny's muttered complaints over the past two months. He's nothing like Danny's old partners and colleagues back in Newark, nothing like the laid-back Meka she once met here.

Yet somehow, even though she's known him for less than a day, she senses that he's exactly what Danny needs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that first meeting their lives merge together, intersecting more and more over time.

Steve often accompanies Danny to collect or return Grace on visitation days. Rachel takes pity on him waiting alone in the car and invites him in for a chat each time they come.

He's conversant on a range of topics, from the classics of British Literature—"my mom was a big fan of Byron," he demurely confesses one afternoon over a steaming cup of Earl Grey—to the battles her grandfather fought in Korea with the Royal Marines. The sheer number of languages he understands is astounding, from French, German and Russian to Farsi and Chinese.

And while he's careful not to reveal any details of his military service, she reads well enough between the lines to infer both the dangerous nature of his missions and the toll they must have taken on this surprisingly sensitive man.

She's not blind, of course, no matter how proper her upbringing ("aren't you just so _posh_ ," Danny would mock her when they fought) and she can well appreciate his long, lean good looks as he lounges against the doorframe, patiently waiting for Grace and Danny to share one last hug, radiating that casual and confident air so typical of the Yanks. But he is never inappropriate, never anything less than a perfect gentleman, and soon she finds herself looking forward to his visits.

One day, as the three of them linger in her doorway exchanging goodbyes, she's unable to rein in her gasps of delighted laughter as Steve finishes an absurdly outlandish story about one of their recent cases. After she catches her breath, she realizes to her horror that she is practically flirting with her ex-husband's partner. Her cheeks burn with embarrassment and she slides her eyes to Danny, expecting him to ridicule her with one of his cutting remarks.

Instead, he is gazing at Steve with a soft smile and an expression of what she can only think of as utter devotion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For all that she is intrigued by Steve, her daughter's reaction is what matters the most.

Grace was clearly fascinated with him from the beginning. Even in the first month of the new partnership, Rachel overheard snatches of conversation between Grace and Danny that featured Steve and his many adventures.

 _"Steve did what...that's crazy, no one does that...he's just silly...wow, that's amazing...Daddy, you're making that up."_

It wasn't until she met Steve herself that she understood the attraction. He's not a father but he displays an eagerness to please that few non-parents possess. She appreciates the small but important details of his interactions with Grace, like the way he crouches down to meet her eyes and listen with careful attention to her fanciful and often rambling tales.

At first, Grace is somewhat shy, giving Steve a fleeting smile before rushing off into the house or out to the car. Over time she slowly warms to him, sharing a word or two about her day and introducing him to her latest favorite toy or doll, gradually inviting him into her private world.

Sometimes she catches him studying Grace with a fierce intensity that might be alarming coming from another man. But with him, it seems like Grace is part of a puzzle he's trying to figure out.

One day, in a flash of insight, she remembers where she's seen that look before. Shortly after Danny moved out of their home in New Jersey, a new family settled into the house on the corner. They had a little girl around Grace's age, a pack of noisy siblings and two devoted parents. Many days, Grace sat on the back steps and watched them for hours, her sad face creased into a wistful and yearning expression that broke Rachel's heart.

She asks Danny about it once, wondering what happened to put that same forlorn look on Steve. 

His face twists in pain as he sketches a subdued summary of Steve's life, his parents and sister and all the loss he's suffered in such a short time. And the nature of their job forces him to face the same issues over and over, dealing with dead parents and missing children and all that means to him.

"It breaks his heart sometimes," Danny says sadly, in a moment of rare candor. "He tries to hide it but I know him too well."

She realizes then just how much Steve needs both Grace and Danny in his life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rachel also notices the positive changes in Danny since he started working with Steve.  

He complains less about Hawaii—the beach, the food, the culture—all the small indignities he endured like a martyr since he moved here.

Instead of huddling in his apartment with Grace on the weekends, they roam the island now, discovering a world of new places and experiences that delight her daughter. Rachel is especially grateful for Danny's change of heart since she and Stan travel so much and don't always have the time to help Grace explore her new home.

But Danny does, and apparently Steve as well, often joining them on their weekend adventures.

They also fight less over custody issues, reaching agreement without the blaming and name-calling that characterized their earlier confrontations. She attributes this at least in part to Steve's calming influence. More than once, when a discussion between her and Danny takes a heated turn, she sees Steve off to the side raising an eyebrow or giving a discreet cough, and in turn Danny deflates, the anger bleeding out and his temper cooling.

All in all, despite the obvious differences between them, or maybe because of them, she can't imagine a better partner for Danny.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shooting happens on a picture-perfect Friday afternoon.

Danny telephones after school is out to speak with Grace about their weekend plans. She's vibrating with excitement after she hangs up, dashing about the house amassing a mysterious cache of supplies while rebuffing Rachel's gentle requests for details.

"Mommy, it's a _secret mission_!" she states fiercely. "Steve says you can't tell anyone about those or you break your cover. Then the spies get you." Her pigtails fly behind her as she races up the stairs to finish packing.

Rachel smiles to herself. She's never exactly sure what the three of them get up to at Steve's house, she only knows it's the highlight of Grace's week. As long as Grace is happy, she is too.

She heads into the kitchen and flips on the small television tucked into the corner so she can catch the evening news. The soothing voice of the anchorwoman washes over her while she prepares an early dinner for the two of them.

Just as she's trimming the vegetables, she hears a dramatic break in the broadcast followed by a breathless rush of words from an on-scene reporter.

 _Hostage situation. Governor's Task Force. Shots fired. Three confirmed dead. At least one law enforcement officer..._

Her hand freezes in mid-air, the knife dropping from suddenly lifeless fingers. She pivots to peer closely at the screen. It's impossible to sort through the chaos, the jumble of people and vehicles swirling around in front of a large building with black smoke rising from somewhere within. The crawl at the bottom indicates it's one of the local high schools but offers no other details.

The bile rises in her throat. She frantically searches for information, reassurance, anything at all to still the pounding of her heart and stop the litany of fear running through her head.

 _not Danny not Danny not Danny not Danny not Danny_

After endless moments scanning the swelling crowd, she finally glimpses him in the background near one of the ambulances. His wild golden hair flashes like a beacon and a bright patch of red stains his arm. Then he's hustled around to the back by one of the emergency workers and disappears from her sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Rachel drives to Steve's house to drop off Grace for her weekend with Danny.

She's still shaken from the shooting but is determined not to make a scene. Her frustrated and tearful tirades never helped when they were married and certainly won't change anything now. Danny is fine and Grace will see her father again, that's all that matters.

As she's dragging the backpacks and suitcases and other equipment Grace deemed essential from the car, Steve strides out from the house to meet them.

"Hi Steve!" Grace shouts, holding up one of her bags. "Look, I brought all my tools just like you said."

 _Tools?_

Rachel shoots Steve a puzzled look. He winks at her, then bends down to greet Grace with a fond smile and a pat on the arm.

"Good job. Why don't you bring them out back? Your dad's already getting things ready."

He watches her rush around the side of the house, yelling "Danno, we're heeeere!" before standing and turning back to Rachel. "Let me help—"

"Commander McGarrett," she says in her most imperial tone, hands planted on her hips. "What exactly are you planning to do with my daughter today?"

His eyes are dancing with suppressed laughter as he holds his hands up in a calming gesture. "Don't worry, we're just making sandcastles. All she's got is the standard beach toolbox—plastic shovels, spoons, brushes—nothing dangerous, I promise. She's in good hands."

She relaxes under his warm regard. Not that she was actually worried in the first place. Outside of her own home she can't imagine a safer place for Grace.

"Well, I suppose—"

"In fact, I've been thinking we should get a duplicate set of her toys and things to keep here, that way when she comes over she doesn't have to haul all her stuff with her each time."

Almost two months since that initial meeting and he still has the capacity to surprise her.

"What a lovely thought, thank you. I'm sure she'd like that."

They smile at each other for a moment and then she bends to pick up Grace's belongings. "Let me get these in the house and then I'll be off and—"

"No, wait."

She looks up at him, his expression open and earnest.

"Please, stay with us, spend the afternoon here. It will good for both of you, for Grace, too, after what happened."

He frowns on that last phrase, waving his hand toward the back of the house. If only "what happened" could be so easily dismissed.

"I don't know...."

She starts to protest before she realizes that _yes_ , there's nothing more she would like right now than to be with Danny, to see with her own eyes that he is alive and healthy, that once again her worst nightmare has not come true. Stan is out of the country again chasing his latest deal and after a sleepless night filled with heartache and bad memories she craves an escape.

And she finds just what she needs on the quiet patch of beach behind Steve's house. It's a typically beautiful day, with a gentle breeze rustling the palms and bright sunlight sparkling off the turquoise ocean. Danny and Grace are sitting at the water's edge building a complicated castle-like structure complete with turrets and moats. Her squeals of laughter float back to the lanai where Rachel waits for Steve to carry out a fresh round of drinks.

Her eye is caught by the white bandage on Danny's left arm, blindingly white under the sun's glare. Of course he had brushed away his injury as "nothing", shrugging off her concerned questions with characteristic impatience. In all the time she has known him he never tolerated being fussed over when he was hurt or sick.

But all afternoon she noticed how Steve hovered around him a little closer than usual, with a hand at the small of his back or a quick squeeze on his uninjured arm, never straying far from his side. Danny didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, a few times she caught him almost imperceptivity leaning into the gentle touches as though grateful for the contact. It's an image she can't reconcile with the feisty, stubborn man she was married to.

She's broken out of her reverie by the sound of footsteps, then Steve is beside her, juggling food and drinks.

"This is for Grace," he says, handing her a juice box and a bag filled with her daughter's favorite snack. "And this is for you." He passes over a tall glass with ice and a wedge of lime.

One fact about this man that _didn't_ surprise her was his skill as a bartender. He makes a superb gin and tonic, not as good as her own, of course, but still.  She takes a quick sip, relishing its cool bite—excellent!—then smiles up at him.

"Thank you. You're a quite a gracious host, you know."

"You're welcome." His makes a face as though embarrassed by the praise, then turns serious, his eyes settling on Danny's bowed figure. "I decided we all deserved something special today."

And just like that her thoughts are pulled back to yesterday's horror, the sickening reminder of every time Danny didn't make it home on time, every cop's funeral she attended, every black-veiled widow she comforted with meaningless words....

A frisson of fear runs down her spine. Married or not, she and Danny are still connected in the most profound way.

She turns her gaze to the beach again. Danny is helping Grace shovel a path through the wet sand with his right hand, his left cradled in his lap. He hasn't complained once today but she noticed his grimaces of pain whenever something jostled his arm.

"It doesn't matter, you know." The bitter words are out of her mouth before she realizes she gave voice to her thoughts. "New Jersey. Hawaii. A change of location doesn't mean he's in any less danger."

Steve's focus is on her now. It's so unnerving she nearly steps away.

"You don't have to worry. He's a good cop."

He shifts around to block her line of sight. She drops her eyes and shivers as the sun slides behind his imposing figure.

"And he's my partner."

Somehow, in that simple statement, she finally understands how much this man is willing to do for her ex-husband. The lengths he would go to protect him. The sacrifices he would make to keep Danny safe. This man—all mystery and intrigue and deadly intensity—would gladly die to protect the father of her child. As he no doubt would for Grace herself.

 _Well, then._

If nothing else she was a realist. She faces him squarely and tilts her head back to meet his eyes.

"Then I'm glad you two found each other."

His eyes widen with surprise and his mouth opens and closes several times as though he's struggling for the right words. He searches her face for a long moment, boring into her eyes, before finally giving her a quick nod, a silent acknowledgement of all she means by that.

It comforts her. She smiles back with gratitude, regret and more than a little envy. Something tight inside finally begins to loosen for the first time since she moved to Hawaii.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Afternoon slides into evening.

They've settled around the outdoor table. She sits on Danny's right, Steve guarding his left, with Grace draped across her lap, heavy with sleep. Her face feels flushed and she's a bit tipsy, the result of too much sun and too many G&Ts.

She shakes her head at another of Danny's outrageous stories about a Five-0 case, this one involving a dead octopus, Chin on a motorcycle and Kono up in a tree. Or something. She lost track a while ago, her thoughts drifting back to their marriage and everything that brought them to Hawaii.

They didn't break up because of a lack of love. If anything, they loved each other too fiercely, never stopping to consider their differences or whether they had what it took to go the distance together.

And although they both possess fiery personalities, too quick to anger and too slow to forgive, that wasn't an insurmountable problem—she's known other couples who learned to overcome the same issues.

The shameful truth is that her own weakness killed their marriage, but not for the reason Danny believes.

She reads the hurt on his face when he comes to her house and knows he thinks he wasn't good enough for her, that only someone with Stan's money and pedigree can satisfy her. But that security was only a balm after the divorce, not the reason for it, and she hates that he feels that way.

It's her fault, she knows now, pushing down the pain that follows that admission. In the beginning, she thought being a cop was just another job, something he could give up if only he loved her enough. She never understood that it's so much more than that, that it's an essential part of _who_ he is.

But now she does.

She sees the pride on his face when he talks about their cases, the times they reunited a family or prevented a tragedy. And she sees how much Steve needs him, for his sharp detective's mind and street smarts and all the honor and compassion he brings to their partnership.

If only she had needed him in the same way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night closes in as the sun dips below the horizon.

Steve breaks off his laughter, pats Danny on the back and gets up to light the tiki torches encircling the patio. One by one, they burst into life, bathing their table in a pool of light surrounded by the encroaching darkness.

Grace stirs, muttering softly in her sleep. Rachel shifts her to a more comfortable position and strokes her hair until she quiets again. Right here is the one thing she and Danny absolutely, unequivocally got right. They can be proud of that, together.

Across the table, Danny and Steve are leaning toward each other, heads bowed close together and almost touching. The lines of tension around Steve's eyes that were so apparent all day are now smoothed by the soft glow of the torches. His expression is open and unguarded, almost vulnerable. Danny murmurs something in his ear, too low for her to hear, and he smiles. He looks happy.

She closes her eyes and basks in the warmth of the dancing flames. The deep rumble of their voices and the distant crash of the waves wash over her in a soothing rhythm.

Danny's heart is here now. Maybe it's time to let go of her guilt. Time to let go of the past. Time for both of them to step into the future and build new lives.

Time, finally, to pass the torch.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to AlamoGirl for the beta, the insights and the constant encouragement!


End file.
